


Thunder

by chennieforyourthoughts



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bloggers, Alternate Universe - MAMA (Music Video), M/M, Marriage Proposal, Powered!EXO
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-01-03 22:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12156168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chennieforyourthoughts/pseuds/chennieforyourthoughts
Summary: A series of Jongdae-centric one-shots, featuring pairings ranging from common to rather rare.(Tags are added with updates.)





	1. Lucid Dream - (Powered) XiuChen

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I could say this is my birthday thing for EXO's Chen, but he will likely (and I hope) never read it.
> 
> [(Fanfic Disclaimer + More ♥)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chen_CHING/profile)

Music leaked through the door and spilled onto the street. At the bar, a black-haired man sat, swirling the leftover cubes of ice in his glass. They hadn’t melted, much to the interest of those around him. The man didn’t notice, busy observing the ice and being taken back to the last time he had sat in this location, many years ago at the start of the twentieth century.

“It’s oftly warm in here, isn’t it?” The man seated at the bar turned to look at the speaker, blinking for a second before recognizing the voice.

“Chen,” he acknowledged. “It’s been a long time.”

“Indeed it has, Xiumin,” Chen nodded, and the man sitting next to Xiumin quickly vacated the area without his saying a word.

Xiumin took the chance to survey the other. He’d changed his hair, going blonde at some point; Xiumin thought it suited him. There were lines around his eyes and deep bruises beneath them, but the familiar smile was still there. He hadn’t aged at all, but he certainly _looked_ older.

And Xiumin absolutely _hated_ how exhausted Chen looked. Something had happened to him in the years they’d been apart, and Xiumin would not rest until the other had become whole again.

In the next breath, Xiumin knew what it was, and knew what he had to do.

He cracked, reaching out to take Chen by the arm. His voice was low under the music, but the other could hear just fine. “Jongdae, we have to talk.” Jongdae blinked at him, but stood without Xiumin having to increase the pressure.

“Alright,” Jongdae said, and they disappeared out the door of the bar and into the bitter chill of Berlin late at night.

Minseok’s apartment was far from anything fancy, but it did the trick. He cast glances at Jongdae as they walked, expecting a quip about him going home with Minseok, but the other was silent. When the door opened, Jongdae stepped through after Minseok and followed him over to the black leather couch.

The silence was deafening, and for once, Minseok wanted nothing more than for his apartment to be filled with lively discussion. Eventually, Jongdae sighed before falling to the side. Minseok froze as Jongdae rested his head on the smaller’s legs and swung his booted feet so they hung off the closer arm of the couch.

“Hey,” Jongdae giggled, and although it was utterly lame Minseok giggled as well. Jongdae’s smile widened, and Minseok forced himself to glare at him.

“Stop that.” Minseok nudged Jongdae, but the other simply kept smiling.

“But you love it,” Jongdae teased, and though Minseok immediately wanted to refute it the longer he thought about it the clearer it became.

“And you’re a brat.” Jongdae laughed at that, and a little bit of Minseok’s worry lifted.

“At least I’ll admit it!”

“You’re proud of it. But I’m not going anywhere.” Minseok knew he had hit the mark when Jongdae’s eyes flew open.

“I’m not leaving,” Minseok repeated, and he watched as gold began to fill the cracks.

 

•

 

A few hours later, Jongdae had fallen asleep. Minseok didn’t want to move him, so he held still and breathed as shallowly as he could. Jongdae hadn’t made it off the couch (or his lap), and Minseok’s legs had fallen asleep a good while ago.

Outside, it had begun to snow. Flakes spiraled down towards the street, turning the air lit by the electric sign across the street pale blue. Minseok hovered half-way in and out of sleep, caught in an odd mix of dream and wakefulness.

Minseok would have said he was asleep when he dropped his hand to card his fingers through Jongdae’s new blonde curls, but he didn’t usually remember his dreams. Jongdae moved in his sleep, pressing up against Minseok’s palm like a cat.

Minseok hoped he wasn’t asleep so he’d remember in the morning; remember the silky feel of Jongdae’s curls, the warmth of Jongdae sprawled on top of him, the way the artificial light coming in from the window cast shadows of blue across his cheekbones.

 _It’d always been a little like falling asleep,_ Minseok realized. _He’d slipped into it, how he loved Jongdae, in the same way sleep had crept up on him as he sat on the couch that night. Like that quote about fog on little cat feet._

           

•

 

Minseok opened his eyes to _much_ too bright light filtering in from an open window, a freezing room, and a whining Jongdae pressed up against his chest.

“Minnie, you’re making it very, very cold.”

Yes, it was a _literally_ freezing room.

He was suddenly awake. “Dae, I’m…. cold.”

Ice crept up his blinds and onto the window. There was a mini snowstorm by the bathroom door, and it was steadily moving towards Minseok’s bed.

It was cold.

He was cold.

Jongdae fumbled. He was cold. _Minseok_ was cold, Minseok who had stood on top of a glacier in shorts and a tank top while drinking a milkshake. ( _Yes_ , he’d seen him do it. And _yes,_ _of course_ he had photographic proof.) Jongdae took another look around the room, pulse pounding in his ears. “Okay, Minnie, I know what to do.”

Minseok gave him a _Look_ ™, but Jongdae ignored it and lifted Minseok up.

(He did _not_ squeak and Jongdae did _not_ drop him on the way over to the bed.)

“Why, Jongdae, are you finally taking me to bed?”

“Kindly stop talking, please.”

 _“Oh,_ and now you’re taking your shirt off. So that’s where this is going?”

Jongdae took the opportunity to smother Minseok with a pillow, wondering what on _Earth_ he had done to deserve this.

(Frankly, it had to be something good or else he wouldn’t have woken up next to Minseok at all.)

Jongdae pulled a still-smothered Minseok backwards and concentrated. He felt the warmth that came with his power rise up to meet him, sparks flooding to his fingertips.

“Kim Jongdae, if you burn me with those I swear to god I am kicking you out of this bed. I do not care how nice and warm you are.”

“That’s not what you said in your sleep, Kim Minseok,” Jongdae teased right back, but with a more serious tone than usual.

“What?”

“You talk in your sleep.”

“Alright, but what did I _say?”_

Both were quiet for a moment, thinking. And then Jongdae reached out, wrapping his palms around Minseok’s forearms and holding tight.

“I love you too,” Jongdae whispered, and the coldness of the room slowly melted away.


	2. When the Skies Clear - Chensoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongdae has something to ask, and he must thank Yuta and Mark for giving him the perfect opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized how long this has been sitting un-updated, so here's the next one! Thank you all for being so patient. <3

The wind began to pick up, leaving Kyungsoo and Jongdae scrambling to pack their gear before it blew over. The narrow bridge suddenly seemed remarkably less inviting as the storm closed in, and Jongdae swallowed hard when he looked over the railing to the river below. “Kyungsoo,” he shouted over the gusts, “We should head back before we fall in and become fish food!” Kyungsoo started swearing; Jongdae couldn’t tell the words, but could easily identify the tone.

“I hate this!” Now _that_ Jongdae could recognize, and Kyungsoo could recognize Jongdae’s signature laugh floating away on the wind. “And I hate you!” He didn’t exactly want to shout at his boyfriend, but it was quickly becoming a necessity.

“This was your idea,” Jongdae laughed, and Kyungsoo’s shouting quickly became loud enough to be heard. “It was you who wanted to come here for the food, after all!”

Running a collaborative food and travel blog wasn’t always easy, but it meant that Jongdae and Kyungsoo got to travel together and stay together. Usually it worked out well, but Sehun had gotten Kyungsoo into _photography_ and then Yuta and Mark had a conflict and gave up their tickets and hotel room in Japan and Kyungsoo had practically pleaded with Jongdae to go visit a bridge in the middle of _nowhere_ and now they were being flung around on said bridge at the start of a storm, holding onto each other and their equipment and trying not to fall. “Yuta and Mark are _dead men!”_ Kyungsoo did _not_ wail— those were the trees on the bank of the river.

Rain began to fall, and the wind whisked away Jongdae’s gasp at the cold. But the two travellers had fought their way back to land and could begin the mad dash for the safety of their rental car. Jongdae reached his door first, Kyungsoo right after him.

“Are we dead? I think we’re dead, Soo.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes as he put their car into reverse and backed out of the spot he’d parked in. Both he and Jongdae were drenched by this point, their wet clothes sticking to their faux leather seats. “Not yet, drama queen.”

“But how do you know? Can you tell? I think we have to kiss to be certain.”

Kyungsoo got his revenge for that statement by stepping on the gas and making Jongdae’s head slam back against the headrest. “Ugh, _Kyungsoo-yah,_ I was joking!” Jongdae was quiet for a moment— much too quiet. “Mostly? I think? I would like a kiss, though.”

This time it was the car winding away from the bridge area that served as Kyungsoo’s revenge. “I’m driving, Jongdae. Unless you want me to crash this car and for both of us to die fiery deaths, then go ahead.”

The other’s snort was loud enough to be heard even over the pounding rain. “And you called me the drama queen!”

Kyungsoo made a mental note to ask Minseok to hide all of Jongdae’s prized plushes back at their apartment.

Their clothing was clammy and cold by the time they made it back to the hotel hours later. They got looks which varied from worried to creeped out, but Kyungsoo ignored them in favor of dragging his boyfriend behind him by his waterlogged shirt collar.

That probably explained some of the looks, actually; Kyungsoo just hoped none of their readers were in the hotel to witness it.

“Get in the shower,” Kyungsoo hissed as soon as he had let go of Jongdae’s collar. “You’re dripping water all over the floor.” Jongdae didn’t dare talk back and was quick to do as told. As the elder showered, Kyungsoo dried their equipment and transferred the shots he had gotten to the laptop in the corner. He was curious as to how they had turned out, and was hopeful that he had gotten some interesting ones when the light on the bridge had been half stormy-half sunny.

 _(Right before he and Jongdae had almost been swept off it,_ he thought in amusement.)

But when he opened the laptop, he was rather surprised by what had been left open on it.

It was the website of one of Tokyo’s top restaurants— one Kyungsoo had been dreaming of eating at for…. well, practically forever. Ever since he’d met Jongdae, at the very least.

The dishes they had rotating through the website header caught Kyungsoo’s eye, and he couldn’t look away. They were delicacies, equally beautiful and expensive.

There was no way Kyungsoo could justify paying for it, even if he did run a food blog.

Kyungsoo was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the shower shut off or Jongdae come out of the bathroom until he was directly behind him. “Your turn,” Jongdae said, and Kyungsoo’s heart stopped in shock. “You should go clean yourself up, we’re going out tonight and I don’t think you’ll want to go in that.”

With a minimal amount of sass, Kyungsoo vanished into the hotel room’s bathroom and shut the door behind him. Jongdae glanced around to make sure the coast was clear before crossing over to his suitcase and searching for something specific within it.

What he was looking for was a small velvet box, and Jongdae sighed in relief when he found it intact. He opened it and checked that its contents were intact as well, and felt a weight lift from his shoulders upon finding them just as they’d been before.

With a _click,_ Jongdae shut the top and slid it back out of sight so he could get dressed without worries. Or fewer worries than he currently had, which were many.

When Kyungsoo exited the bathroom and saw Jongdae in a tuxedo, his eyes widened. He’d only seen his boyfriend dressed up so thoroughly a handful of times, and it stunned him each time it happened. “Yours is hanging in the closet,” Jongdae told Kyungsoo, who was certain Jongdae knew what he was thinking if the look in his eyes was any indication.

Kyungsoo knew he was being watched as he dressed and blow-dried his hair, could feel the steady weight of Jongdae’s gaze on him as he prepared. “Handsome as ever,” Jongdae grinned as Kyungsoo straightened out his bowtie.

“I could say the same to you,” Kyungsoo commented, letting himself properly appreciate the way the tailored set clung to Jongdae.

“You could, and I hope you do later, but we do have somewhere to be.”

As Jongdae finally let Kyungsoo into the cab after he gave the driver the address, Kyungsoo couldn’t help but wonder where they were going for dinner. It couldn’t be the restaurant on their laptop, because that one did not require quite such formal attire.

But it was, and Kyungsoo was sent on a rollercoaster of emotions as the cab came to a stop before it. Jongdae stepped out first and extended an arm to Kyungsoo, who humored him and took it. “Ah, Mr. Kim and Mr. Do! Your room is ready for you— right this way, please.”

 _Your room?_ Kyungsoo wondered, but Jongdae appeared unsurprised. Sure enough, a private room had been set aside for them, and after they were seated Kyungsoo was shocked to find that Jongdae had organized for them to do a tasting run by the restaurant’s chef.

Their meal was stellar, almost as special as how the candlelight reflected off their wine bottle into Jongdae’s eyes. Kyungsoo couldn’t remember being more pleased; his wait had been well worth it, and he would be sure to give the restaurant a fantastic review when they got back.

It was right after both had finished their final course that Jongdae stood. At first, Kyungsoo thought he was leaving to locate the restrooms, but quickly realized that was not the case. Rather than leaving the room, Jongdae stepped around the table between them to stand before Kyungsoo.

“Kyungsoo, my love,” he began, and Kyungsoo would have fondly rolled his eyes but heard something much more serious in Jongdae’s tone which made him pause. “The past five years we’ve been together, first as friends and then as partners, have been the best in my memory. Had we never met how we did, they likely would have been just like all the others. But they weren’t, and I know I have never been happier than I am with you.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t move, frozen in place as he watched as Jongdae— weirdly brilliant, positively beautiful, _his_ Jongdae— dropped onto one knee and reached into his tuxedo sleeve for the velvet box. “Do Kyungsoo, will you marry me?”

Jongdae and Kyungsoo were both frozen; one had torn his heart out for the other to see, and the other took it and cradled it like a bird with a broken wing. “Yes,” Kyungsoo said, pushing himself from his chair to kneel in front of Jongdae. “Yes, yes, I will.”

As soon as he said the words, it was as if the sun rose across Jongdae’s features. “I love you, Kim Jongdae, and I am yours as much as you are mine.”

The restaurant was kind enough to keep from interrupting them, and if they noticed the redness of their eyes as they thanked the chef for their meal it was not commented on.

“How did you know where to take me?” Kyungsoo asked later, once their tuxedos had been neatly folded and replaced on their hangers by his request.

“There’s only one thing in the world you love more than me,” Jongdae replied, but Kyungsoo shook his head.

“There’s nothing I love more than you,” he corrected, and watched as Jongdae lit up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this was Chanyeol proposing instead of Jongdae, he'd accidentally knock over their wine bottle and smash the candle in the process and probably accidentally burn down half the restaurant but Kyungsoo would still say yes.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to suggest ships for future chapters! ♥


End file.
